Festival of Lights
by WWSmith
Summary: Holidays can be depressing, especially when you're the only one celebrating them.


Festival of Lights

"So, where should we go now?" The Doctor asked as he walked around the TARDIS control room. "New world, old world? Forward in time? Back? Sideways?"

"Could we even go sideways in time?" Rose was sitting in the lone console room chair, watching the Time Lord run about the ship. She was more than capable of keeping up with him, but endless laps around the room were not her idea of fun. Besides, the view was better from where she sat, especially when he bent over to press a button or nudge an errant wire back in to place.

"I dunno." The Doctor ducked out from behind the control column. He twisted a few knobs and strolled over to her. Leaning against the panels, the Doctor toyed with a few switches and turned to face her with a grin. "Wanna find out?" Rose smiled at him from the chair. She loved it when he got like this – full of excitement and infectious energy. Rose hopped out of the chair and pretended to examine the many colored lights and switches.

"Hmmm…" She said in mock consideration. "Do you think you could handle it?" Rose met his eyes with challenge in her own. He smiled back at her and continued the game.

"Rose Tyler, I've yet to find anything I couldn't get this ship out off." His hand hovered over a button. "Shall we see what happens?" Rose was about to press it herself when a series of bells began to sound. They were loud enough to cut of any reply she would have made, but the didn't seem to indicate danger.

"Doctor, what was that?" She looked for a clue but found nothing. When she turned back to her companion, an entirely different side of the Doctor's personality had replaced the fun loving adventurer she'd just been talking to. He was standing very still, hands now at his sides, staring at the place where the control column met the ceiling. The look on his face was far too familiar: quiet despair over something lost, pain he hid from the world because he wished it on no one else. "Doctor, what's wrong?" He blinked and turned to her.

"It's nothing to worry about. Just a maintenance reminder." He tried to put on the happy face again, but it fit badly over his real emotions. "Looks like the trip'll have to wait." The Doctor walked towards the door. Rose almost let him go, but something in the back of her mind told her not to let the matter drop.

"Where are you going?" She asked, more to stop him than because she wanted to know.

"There's something I've got to take care of… nothing life threatening. Won't take long." He tried to leave again.

"Can I help?" Rose dropped into step next to him.

"No." He said quickly. "It's nothing really. I'll be done in an hour or so." The Doctor picked up his pace. Rose thought that maybe she should just leave him be, but the something insisted that he not be left alone again. Now that she considered it, Rose was able to place the foreign suggestion.

_'Why?'_ She asked the TARDIS in her mind. _'Why should I follow him?'_ The answer came slowly: a feeling of loneliness deep in her heart. As she walked down the hall, she felt regret and sadness. Rose stared at the Doctor's back as guilt threatened to crush her very soul if she ever confronted it. She felt the ghosts of tears falling on her and echoes of weeping wandered through her mind's ears. The part of Rose that loved the Doctor wished she could stop and listen to the ship properly, but the more selfish side of her was glad that she was only feeling small impressions of these things.

_'What should I do?'_

Curiosity stirred in her again. She felt the need to ask questions and seek the root of things. Just when she thought the TARDIS was finished speaking, her heart suddenly went cold. After a few seconds, an impression of warm comfort chased the chill away.

_'I'll try.'_ She thought, and turned her focus back to the Doctor. He was standing in front of an elaborate door, fiddling with a lock. The door was beautiful – it was covered in intricate designs of spirals and waves. Two stylized suns blazed at opposite corners. In the middle, an orange circle with interlocking curves pulled the decorations together. Rose stared at it.

"What's in there?" The Doctor started slightly.

"Rose." He said in a mostly calm voice. "I didn't think you were still there. You should go back to your room. I won't be long." She didn't answer. Slowly, she walked up to the door and touched it reverently. It felt like wood, but it was impossibly smooth and warm under her hand. The Doctor took her wrist and gently pulled her hand from the door.

"What is it?" She asked again. The Doctor seemed to debate with himself.

"It's… something I have to remember." He said finally. "Back on Gallifrey, there used to be festivals of the suns. Just like they have things for the moons and the seasons on planets that have them. Most worlds have whole mythologies built around stars and moons. On Gallifrey, most of that died out for us after the Dark Times, but we still honored our home stars." He touched the smaller blue orb in the top left corner. "The minor sun." He brushed the other sun with his right hand. "And the major. There were only a few times in a millennium they stood at zenith together. The light would shine down in a brilliant show and the whole of the Time Lords would look and remember that we depended on nature for everything. That we were mortal…" The Doctor's voice dropped to a whisper. "That we would all die some day."

"Is this one of those day? The suns together, I mean." The Doctor turned away from both her and the door.

"It would have been, if they were still there."

"What happened?" The Doctor sighed.

"The Time War… at the end of it all, there wasn't any way to save them." He stared off at some unknown point. "Someone… I, had to put an end to it. I blew them up to destroy the Daleks. Gallifrey went with it. It's all gone now." Rose walked over to the Time Lord and took his hand.

"So you remember them. You keep the holiday so they won't be forgotten. Tell me about them." The Doctor smiled at her sadly.

"It's my responsibility. I'm the one who has to do it."

"Tell me about them." Rose gave his hand a tug. "Come on, you can't show me a shiny door and expect me to not want to see what's on the other side." Again, the Doctor seemed to fight with himself.

"I don't know if you'll understand it. Gallifreyian is a weird language."

"Doctor, I want to know. And I'm not letting you sit in there and mope all alone." He considered her for a moment, then unlatched the door.

"Thank you, Rose Tyler." He said as they walked in.

"For what?" The Doctor squeezed her hand.

"For reminding me that I'm not alone."

A.N: This story was written on the first night of Hanukkah. Because of scheduling, I wasn't able to be at home for the holiday at all and had to work that night. I was feeling sort of alone, and I got to thinking about what sort of holidays they might have had on Gallifrey. Since most cultures and religions base the timing of worship (if not the holidays themselves) around celestial objects, I thought the same might be true of Time Lords.


End file.
